


Crisis of Faith

by CountFrogula



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 13:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12212568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountFrogula/pseuds/CountFrogula
Summary: An old goddess shares her trade secrets.





	Crisis of Faith

The Hakurei shrine had its own kind of momentum. Most days, it was perfectly quiet, but once in a blue moon, when a festival came its way, it could keep its bustling activity well into the night. The normally quiet grounds filled out with stalls, and thronged with crowds from all over Gensokyo, lit up in red and orange and gold. Humans, youkai, fairies… yes, even a few gods.

It took Suwako back, it really did. She could reminisce all day over a scene like this.

She could always do that, of course, but it never hurt to have an excuse. Staring into the past too much wasn’t especially healthy anyway, in her opinion; not that that stopped her, but if she was going to do something she shouldn’t anyway, there were always more pleasant alternatives.

She sauntered past the crowds, who didn’t even notice her. Good for them; there were better things to pay attention to at a festival than gods, in her opinion. Good for her, too, since she managed to swipe a piece of cotton candy with its owner none the wiser. She took a huge bite, then handed it back and went on her way. Tasted horrible, far too sticky and sweet. She kept trying, but she just couldn’t tell what Sanae saw in it.

There she was, sitting on the balcony of the shrine by herself, wearing an exhausted expression and flapping a fan half-heartedly at herself. Reimu. Suwako had expected to see Marisa there, or Sanae, or else _someone,_ but the space was empty for the moment. That was convenient. The goddess made her way to Reimu with a cheerful wave that the shrine maiden didn’t return, and a big, warm smile that met much the same treatment.

“What do you want?” Reimu grumbled. It was, to Suwako’s mind, a good question to hear in general, but only when it was a little more sincere than this.

“Well now, let’s see,” she began, tapping at her chin. “Fame and fortune, immortality, power, the usual suspects. Had it before, but I’m feeling nostalgic tonight.” A thought struck her, and she added, “I’ll take any rice crackers you’ve got, too. How about you?”

“Go away.” Suwako suspected it was meant to be a growl, but it came out as more of a tired whine. Small wonder, too. The work in preparing the shrine grounds must have taken a lot out of her.

“Humble wishes. I can respect that.”

“So… are you leaving?” Reimu asked hopefully.

“Nah.” Suwako turned on her heels, and plopped down onto the balcony next to Reimu, legs dangling from the edge. She took a bite out of a rice cracker that Reimu could’ve sworn wasn’t there a moment ago, and idly kicked at the stone step underneath her. Reimu forced herself upright, grumbling all the while, and sipped at a mug of tea that had gone cold long ago, wincing whenever she looked at one of the brighter lanterns.

“So, what are you doing here anyway?” Reimu asked after a while, resigned to conversation. She was hoping Suwako would disappear if ignored long enough, but today wasn’t her night.

“Checking up on you!” The goddess replied jovially, clapping her on the shoulder, making Reimu flinch away. “You looked moody, and there’s been plenty going on lately. Someone oughta look in on you. What’s eating you, huh, Reimu?”

“Tonight? Mosquitoes,” Reimu replied flatly, swatting at one arm. She had a lifetime to grow heartily sick of summer.

“What you need to do is teach them a lesson they won’t forget,” Suwako answered, and her tongue flicked out – far too long for any human – to snare and gulp down one of the many insects surrounding them, scattering the swarm for a few seconds. Reimu looked a little ill.

“Whatever you're here for, I still don’t trust you,” the shrine maiden managed after a bit, trying to bat away any serious conversation almost as energetically as she did the bugs around her. Suwako gasped, one hand to her mouth.

“Have I _ever_ lied to you, Reimu?”

“Well-” Suwako shushed her just as she was about to pick one of many examples.

“Ah ah ah, that was _allegorical_. It was _mythic,_ it was. Mysterious ways or something, shouldn’t go ‘round taking everything at face value. Listen, you’re not getting rid of me, you’re having a sort of… a divine revelation,” Suwako finished, with a grand wave of her arms.

“I’ve already dealt with Kijin.”  
  
“No, no, a _revelation_. That’s when a god comes down from on high to tell you what’s what.”

“Do you do anything else?”

“Ehn. I’ve got my days off,” Suwako answered, and shrugged. Reimu let out a sigh that seemed like it might never end, and finally slumped her shoulders forward, deflating. She was resigned to this now.

“Fine. There’s that… _thing_ you’re working on, to start with. What did Sanae call it? A ropeway? _Every time_ Kanako starts anything – it’s her, right? It feels more like her work than yours - it ends up meaning trouble for me. I’m just bracing myself for the next round,” she explained. That wasn’t the whole story, but it was something.

“Mostly Kanako. Really, you nearly set Gensokyo on fire _once_ and no one lets you live it down. So, you forgot, did you?”

Reimu blinked at her, puzzled. “Forgot what?”

“First time we met!” Suwako gave her another clap on the shoulder with those tiny hands, and beamed up at her. “Remember yet? First time we met! I told you to come to me if Kanako ever gives you trouble again. Never heard back from you, even with everything that happened since. I wondered about that, you know.”

Reimu stared at her for a few seconds, blinking again, reaching through her memories to make the little connections, and finally shook her head. “…You were serious about that?”

“Close as I ever get!” the goddess promised with her usual good cheer, then leaned in, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tell you what, I promise I’ll keep this one out of your hair, alright? To tell you the truth, it’s mostly politics anyway, between Kanako and the tengu. None of it’s gonna float down your way.”

Reimu took a little while to process this, her mouth opening and closing a few times. Then, because the years had trained certain expectations into her and taught her never to take anything for granted, she asked: “Why are you doing this?”

Suwako mulled over a few answers in her thoughts. Because someone needed to look out for her, in ways where Marisa didn’t quite count (though Yukari almost did)? Because she had nothing better to do, and she’s been meaning to get around to this? Because-

‘Adopt’ wasn’t nearly the right word, and she nearly laughed when she thought of it. She wasn’t sure what the right word was, though. Reimu wouldn’t approve of it, whatever it was, she knew that much already. She needed something more convenient. Something- ah. Perfect.

“Why? Well, ah… I’m dying, for one,” she explained in a casual, conversational tone. “Makes me all thoughtful, introspective.” She watched Reimu’s paling face, open mouth and shocked stare for a second, took a bite out of the cracker, and held up her free hand, palm forward.

“ _Slowly,_ ” she added, “so don’t you go celebrating just yet. You got time for a story, Reimu? Seriously, I’m asking. Getting late, and you already looked tired when I first met you.”

The comment flew over Reimu’s still-blank stare. She nodded a few times eventually, still dazed. “I-I’ll be here for a while anyway. To clean up after they leave. Always am.” She stared out at the crowd, made blurry and indistinct through the lights and heat haze coming off a few stalls, and suddenly shook her head. “Go on,” she muttered half under her breath. “I’m listening.”

“Hey, relax. What’s it to you, Reimu? Nothing but a thorn in your side. Besides, I might even outlast you! Does things to my sense of scale, being around this long, you know? Tomorrow, two hundred years, what’s the difference? Anyway, the point! You know what Kanako and I give people? I mean, let’s be honest, not enough to earn our keep, but _besides_ that. C’mon, you’re the shrine maiden here. If you can’t tell me, who’s gonna guess?”

Still a little off balance from it all, Reimu shook her head slowly, like she was trying to clear something out of her head. Suwako, mostly. Tomorrow, two hundred years? She wasn’t sure, by now, if there was any reason to be worried or not. She wasn’t sure – just the way Suwako said – if there would be a reason even if the ancient goddess _was_ finally coming to an end. She was tired, she was very sure of that much.

“Miracles?” She hazarded, and Suwako smiled and sighed.

“Sweet of you, but no. We’re a special brand of goddess, the ones like Kanako and I. What we give most humans – what really matters in the long term – is _things_. Tools. Inventions. The _tools_ ,” she explains with a grand wave of her hands, “to kill- no, to _starve_ the gods. Every medicine’s a prayer lost, every bag of seed plant or irrigation ditch is a hunting god gone out of business for good, and so on. We give, and we give, until some day – and believe you me, it’s happened on the outside – we’ve given enough for humans to take the rest from there. They won’t need us! But we haven’t got a whole lot else to offer, so-”  
  
“…So you keep it up anyway,” Reimu finished for her, “and hang on as long as you can.”

“Exactly!” Suwako clapped her hands together with, Reimu thought, a morbid and completely inappropriate sense of glee. “I try not to think about all the others I’ve put six feet under without meaning to, you know? That’s not a… you know,” she flapped her hands about vaguely, “a _guilt_ thing, it’s just a pain keeping track. Anyway, I’m on a clock, and shoving the hands for all I’m worth. Kanako too, ‘less she moves into weather and all that full-time. Been telling her she should, one of these days. _The point,_ though. Every once in a while, it sticks in my head, I guess. Gets me acting funny! Funnier than usual, I mean. Don’t go through all I’ve seen without _something_ cracking upstairs, right?”

Reimu ignored her purposely manic grin, starting to adjust to Suwako’s pace as much as anyone could. She took a long gulp of her tea, draining the cup, putting it down, and glancing at it to find it full again. Suwako was beaming at her, and there was no kettle in sight.

“How did you-”

“I’ve got ways.”

“…Of course you do.” Reimu shook her head, and picked the cup back up, staring at it suspiciously, like she expected it to spring out of her hand. …What Suwako said _had_ softened her slightly towards the goddess, though. If only because, in her strange and difficult way, Suwako had chosen to confide in her, if that was what it was. She’d given up on trying to make sense of Suwako and, despite what she was told minutes ago, took as much of it as she could at face value. It was just less tiring that way.

“I might not like it,” Reimu began with a rather grudging tone, “and you leave more of a mess than I’d like… but I have to admit, you and Kanako are trying to help. Irresponsible and annoying, sure, but-”

“Aw, listen to you. You’d get along with _her_ just fine,” Suwako cut in. She patted Reimu on the head a few times – reaching a fair way up for that – and made a mess of the shrine maiden’s hair, pushing the ribbon out of place so it slid down the back of her head.

“Me? I’d smash up the machines or throw them a plague once in a while, that sort of thing. Make up some new law they went against so it’s _fair,_ you know? It’s not…” She waves her hand vaguely again, her over-long sleeve flapping about. “It’s just _caprice_ or something if I do it, probably.” Reimu didn’t comment. Suwako went on all the same, only convincing Reimu further that she was more of an audience than a partner in the conversation. She wondered to herself if Suwako was this way with everyone, or else if it was just something about gods.

Not that she would know. The thought crept up on her, before she could bat it away.

“The difference between Kanako and I is this. I mean, plenty of differences, but I’m trying to stick to the one that means something right here and now, right? Something big. Kanako thinks she _deserves_ worship. Now, I don't mean she's some sort of egomaniac. She is, but that's all of us, it's in our blood! Can't help how we're made, eh? Not you, not me, not any of us. Born into it, isn’t that right?”

Reimu, still not quite sure where any of this was supposed to go – if it was even going anywhere – shrugged, and eventually gave up a little nod. They both had that going for them, it was true, but she very much doubted that it meant anything similar between them.

“Aaaanyway, the thing is, she reckons she deserves worship because of who she is, what she is, but then she does the things she does - the miracles, the prayers answered, everything outside the wheeling and dealing, maybe even some of the scheming and power grabs too - because she figures she ought to. Because she thinks we're better off with her in charge. It's about us, see? She thinks she makes it fair, earns her keep. Becomes someone who's worth worship. She still thinks we're all that.”

Reimu’s face settled into what struck Suwako as somewhere between alarm, and whatever a sigh might look like as a facial expression. She countered it with a smile, and a friendly nudge in the ribs.

“Warms my heart, it does. Pity she’ll probably grow out of it, eh? She, ah… she _believes_ in gods, which I’m a little too old for. It’s sweet, really. Sounds like you do too, huh? A little, anyway.”

It was, Reimu had to admit, working. She was distracted from her earlier worries, now that Suwako was dropping one strange revelation after another into her lap, but that wasn’t exactly comforting. She only realised it, distantly, and had to hold back a dry laugh that she wasn’t particularly feeling to begin with.

“And the reactor. The reactor is your big break, isn’t it? I can’t- I can’t imagine anything bigger. I don’t really understand it, but from the way Sanae talks about it… I don’t want to think about anything _bigger_ you might try either, with how much I had to fix after Utsuho went berserk.”

“Oh, yeah, _that_ could’ve gone better, huh? You were our backup plan, actually. ‘If it all goes wrong, Reimu’s going to clean it up anyway’.” Suwako smiled up at her, and nodded approvingly. “We owe you one, really! I mean, we’re not gonna pay you back or anything, don’t get far in this business by being _honest_ , but I can at least tell you! We, uh… we won’t try anything that big in a while, probably. No promises. It’s the big one, sure enough. Real ambitious for Kanako.”

“And for you?”

Suwako broke, ever so slowly, into a grin. “You want to know?” She didn’t. She found herself nodding, all the same. Suwako, Reimu reflected, put her in mind of a lake, having never seen an ocean in her lifetime. Placid and inviting on the outside, if not especially calm. Harmless. Under the surface, further below, there was- well, she didn’t want to think too hard about what lived down there. It wouldn’t do her much good.

“Well, I always liked fission better,” Suwako began. “It’s messier. Uglier. Anyway, I won’t bother you with the explanations, Sanae’s gonna talk your head off about it one of these days, probably. I got the idea, Yatagarasu and all, from a sun god I met many years ago. Down on his luck, traveling by boat for greener pastures. Sad story, but I’ve seen a million like it. Maybe eight million, eh? Eh?” She nudged Reimu, with no response, and gave up.

“Anyway, we’re like humans. Usually, if you see us in history books, we’re goners. They stick your altar in a museum and it’s curtains from there. Anyway, he was before your time, before just about anyone’s. Old guard, like me. Devil of a time figuring out anything he said too. His Japanese wasn’t what I’d call good, and I’ve talked to _frogs_. He was pretty charming, though, smart, not bad-looking for someone who had a bird’s head, the way tengu used to be way back. Married – much more so than most people, actually – but nobody’s perfect. Anyway, sun god. Burning. Stuck in my head, and down the line, I had a way to put it to use.”

Suwako sipped at a drink of her own, from a little gourd, and offered the shrine maiden a tray of mochi, drenched in a sweet brown sauce. Again, Reimu wasn’t sure where it came from. “Something for your time? While I’m talking anyway,” Suwako offered, and Reimu took it, realising she hadn’t eaten since morning. She kept quiet after, muttering some brief thanks and munching on the treat while listening. Her time with Yukari was useful here, in a way. She had practice listening to strange, rambling stories from long ago. It was a skill anyone picked up around youkai, sooner or later. And, apparently, some goddesses.

“The thing is… the thing is, there’s the structure, right? It’s not risk and reward with this kind of thing, see, because you know it’s coming some day, and you’ve made your peace with that. Except you _haven_ _’_ _t_ , in a way, right? The gamble’s still there, ‘maybe it won’t be me they pick’. Maybe it’ll be someone else on the gallows, or on the pyre, or bleeding on a pyramid, or however else you like to do it. Takes all sorts. You've got your nuclear furnace, giving you marvels, miracles, things you'd never dare dream of, and then you've got the price. Sometimes there's fire, sometimes it just poisons the land for more generations than you can count on both hands. Out here, sometimes it's just a crazy woman flying about raving about burning the whole world. That _gamble_ is what got me interested.”

Suwako caught her breath, wet her throat, and scanned the shrine grounds. They were in a darker, quieter corner, and the crowd still present wasn’t one that had any real interest in the shrine itself; most people finished their offerings off early in the night if at all, and moved onto the festival’s attractions. No one even noticed them.

She could’ve pretended that was symbolic, somehow, but even to her, it felt a little indulgent and melodramatic.

“The point is,” the goddess continued to Reimu’s vaguely curious expression, “you accept it. Maybe not _you_ , but… you know, people. looks at the price - you've got to know the price or it doesn't count, I'm making _sure_ they all know, I’ll remind them if they ever stop being scared after the whole mess with Utsuho - and they decide that it's _okay_ so long as the miracles keep coming. One day, the other shoe drops, and a bunch of good and honest people, as much as any people are good and honest - believe you me, it's not a whole lot - drop dead, because they decided that some miracles are worth their skin burning up and the earth soaking through with poison, once in a blue moon. ...And when that happens, do you know what it's called?"

Reimu paused her chewing, and slowly set the tray down on the floor with a troubled expression. She was still shifting gears internally, realising that she was no longer listening to an obscure, half-true story, but something real. Real, and even to her, alarming.

“A disaster,” she said flatly, after some thought, “unless I stop it first.”

“And that,” Suwako responded with a pleased smile, “is real faith, but _no_. What it is, Reimu, is a _sacrifice_. An actual, live sacrifice in this age, and just about everyone there signed on for it! Because they trusted it, knowing they'll probably pay some day. Because they _believe._ Now, isn't that just _beautiful_? It’s not about anyone dying, I’m not pushing anyone off a ledge… but they trust us, knowing it might be a wall of fire or a cloud of poison the next day. They _believe,_ and they’ve paid the price in their heads.”

Reimu’s voice turned low, a little hollow. Her hands instinctively reached for a few needles in her pockets, held them up… then lowered them again. No, this wasn’t a threat, this wasn’t a youkai posturing, not the prelude to a fight. It was the plain, unvarnished truth, given to her for-

Gods only knew why, she realised bitterly. She tucked the needles away, under Suwako’s amused eyes.

“I told you,” the goddess continued. It wasn’t smugness, exactly. Reimu couldn’t put a word to the tone. “We're gods of iron, Kanako and I. Every little invention chips away at gods. It's about mercy, see? Humans used to be at the mercy of the elements. We _were_ those elements. We were that mercy, too, if they behaved.

Every little thing they come up with, every last thing they slip in their bag of tricks, means they need us a little bit less. Like I said, if you knew how many good old-fashioned hunting gods this country killed with a few bags of seed rice - well, let me tell you, it's a massacre I won't share with delicate ears.

We give away the knives they slit our throats with. Can't help ourselves, it's all we've got to give. You've got to play the only long game you can. Make it cost. Make the payoff for each one _big_. Sacrifice," she repeats, looking immensely satisfied.

"It's a damned fine thing, done right. You grab a knife with no handle, just cutting edge all the way down, because it's the only one in town and you want it. We give you a big clay kiln, tell you that you've got to hold it by the _fire_ if you want to carry it off, and you just go and do it! And all I can say to _that_ is..." She smirks, and tips her hat a little way. "Well, thanks a million. We owe you one."

“And this-” Reimu began, only for Suwako to cut her off.

“…Isn’t right or fair, just so that’s out of the way. So! There’s the whole story, the big break. Never told anyone, you know. Not even Kanako.”

Reimu stared at her, unblinking. A stare intense enough, Suwako had to admit, that she felt like it might burn holes in her. That stare turned to a frown, and then… nothing. Nothing, except the look of someone who was slowly realizing the floor had been stolen away from under her.

“…Why are you telling me this?” She meant it as a stern question, but her voice came out a little cracked.

“Good question!” Suwako replied jovially. “Why not?”

“…I could tell someone. It wouldn’t be a secret, then. It’s not _safe_ for you to tell me.”

The goddess considered this, and stole the last of the mochi from the tray, chewing on it while keeping one hand on Reimu’s shoulders. “Good point. Gooood point. See, the thing is, though… I’m pretty sure all this scares you more than it scares me, isn’t that right?” Reimu didn’t answer, at first.

“Why are you telling me?” Reimu repeated slowly, struggling with the words, wondering to herself how all this had happened to what seemed like a tiring but simple night.

Suwako thought, and thought, tapping at her chin. Eventually, she shrugged. “Oh, like _I_ know,” she answered in her best flippant tone, which only made Reimu suspect she did. “Maybe I like coming clean sometimes, huh? Maybe I think you deserve to know. Maybe I think you deserve some tips to keep your head above water. See, you work a little like us, keep people safe, and count on them looking up to you to keep you going, more or less. Only you’re honest about it, and look where that gets you! Or, hey, maybe I’m trading a secret for a secret. Could be I’m just showing you I’m as honest as can be, tonight. Oooor,” she continued, palms turned upward, “maybe I just like hearing myself talk. Scratch that, I love it, you would too with a voice like mine, but I’ve got _other_ reasons too.” She nodded to herself several times, looking particularly satisfied.

“I don’t have secrets,” Reimu declared. Being around Suwako – or the many youkai whose company she kept – gave her a knack for spotting anything that could drag her into a trick, and she homed in on it while practically ignoring the rest. She wasn’t sure yet if Suwako surrounded the small fraction of her words that mattered with a cloud of useless noise, or if everything was a tiny hint to help make sense of what she was thinking. She did not, she realised, particularly care. It was too much hassle to puzzle it out. Again.

That was probably how Suwako liked it.

“Good! Then this’ll be easy. See, I think I know what’s on your mind, Reimu,” the goddess jerked a thumb towards the shrine itself, behind her. “…Big night, tonight. You notice anything from, you know, upstairs?” She tilted her head towards the inner shrine for good measure, and waited.

Reimu took a deep breath. It felt overdue. That, or she should have been taking several to calm herself through all this. She was, she always thought, good at that. She could be troubled, or annoyed, and while she wouldn’t hide it, she kept calm. She was grateful for it, then.

“Of course not.”

“...You listen anyway, don’t you? Every time.” It was an old habit, for Suwako. The sort of thing she could feel, if she was close enough. It wasn’t faith, really. Nothing close to that. A bitter, resentful hope, crossed with a quiet plea to not be alone. She tried her hand at it too, a few times in the past. It fit less well coming from her, somehow.

Reimu, she thought, had a particular look to her. Older, in an odd way. Someone who grew up faster than she should have to. A look that Suwako hoped she wouldn’t soon see in Sanae, or in Kanako. It made what she offered – an awkward little pat, like someone trying to console a child without quite knowing how – feel a little off even to her. She took it back hurriedly.

“Disgraceful, really,” she muttered quietly, and Reimu shook her head. Reimu, who – as far as the little goddess could tell – had made the choice of replacing just about any emotional reaction with resigned exhaustion. It was, she thought, oddly familiar, if not something she had tried in a very long time.

“I know,” Reimu answered eventually, shaking her head again. “I know, I know. I hear it all the time.”

“Shhh. Not _you. Them_.” She waved her hand over at the shrine. “It’s… sloppy. Gods don’t _sulk_ just because you don’t praise them enough or something. They don’t _hide_. It’s…” She waggled her hands around. “Show business, I guess. It’s about _keeping up appearances_. You don’t get to be a quiet one. Show your face, impress everyone, or-”

“What about Hina?” Reimu cut in, and Suwako laughed.

“What _about_ her? _Hina_ is a piece of scrap with big dreams. Or small ones, never could tell with her. She's a sweet one, don't get me wrong, but she's more doll than goddess. That's a compliment, far as I'm concerned. This god of yours. Goddess, whatever. They ever do anything for you?"

Reimu paused and then, reluctantly, she shook her head. There were strokes of luck she sometimes chalked up to someone watching over her, when she was younger. There were the tools she used every time she fought youkai; relics that would’ve worked for any Hakurei. None of it, she had to admit, really counted.

“Back where I come from, we starved them for that kind of attitude. Anyone in there’s either _dead_ , or they haven’t earned you. Not that you’re much of a prize, but any god’s got to make an effort!” She grinned, and nudged Reimu. For once, it got a quiet little half-laugh. That was a start, at least.

“Like I said, it’s sloppy. Me? It drives me up the wall because this is just- just not how it’s done. _You_ should be angry, on the other hand, because you had a _deal_ , and they didn’t come through.” She nodded for emphasis, then watched Reimu expectantly. Eventually, the shrine maiden realised she was supposed to answer with something.

“So for all this, all the-”

“The rambling.”

“Sure. The rambling. For all that, _this_ is what you came to me for? To tell me that… I don’t even know. To tell me I need to stop caring about this?”

“Something like that! Had it up to here with the stuff I hear about this shrine,” Suwako answered, holding a finger to her throat by way of demonstration. “You have a big festival at the shrine, you get divine guidance, that’s the deal. You’re welcome, by the way!”

“…I don’t believe you,” Reimu muttered with an exasperated breath, shaking her head in half shock, half… a strange relief. It was a weight off her shoulders, if this was true. A sort of old personal failing that, apparently, wasn’t much of one at all. At the same time, it slammed a different, stranger and quieter kind of weight down on her. It wasn’t new, exactly. It was something she always suspected in the back of her mind, on quiet, long days with no one else around.

And again, Suwako laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, you and everyone else. Doesn’t matter to me, I’m retired, remember? Anyway…” The goddess cleared her throat, and stood up, tugging lightly at Reimu’s hand. “We better get going, it’s just about empty in here. Come on, I’ll help clear the grounds with you. You clean up my mess once, I do the same for you, that makes us even, right?”

Reimu didn’t argue, but she stole a glance back at the shrine. It was, she thought, not something she was going to come to terms with just yet, in practice. It would all hit her in a few days, or weeks, and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to that, but she was willing to believe that this was for the best. A step forward was a step forward, even if she didn’t particularly like where her feet went next. Bitter medicine, maybe.

The goddess, chattering and laughing the whole way, felt a little relieved too. She was retired, true, and she had no real time for any ideas of what was right or fair, or what anyone deserved. She hadn’t considered herself much of anything in a long while; a mountain that learned to walk and forgot how to die, at most. She never claimed to care about rules a great deal, but all the same… some things were done a certain way, and the more she felt the emptiness at this shrine, the more it had made her skin crawl, for years now. This was like scratching an itch, in a way. 

In between picking up bags, sweeping, and shuffling scaffolds around, Suwako snapped her fingers while Reimu’s eyes were elsewhere, and watched with satisfaction as the little warehouse by the side of the shrine shifted slightly from the new weight. That would, if nothing else, easily be enough food for the next two seasons, on one person.

It wasn’t a great miracle, and it wasn’t particularly a fair return on anything. It wasn’t a reward, because she knew that the moment it became one, it would be insultingly small. She liked to think it was just caprice or something, if she did it. Probably.


End file.
